From a Terrace in Prague

Boleslav succeeded Wenceslaus as first Bohemian Prince of that name. His was a long and eventful reign, from 936 to 967, long at least for those days when rulers were apt to be removed abruptly. None knew this better than Boleslav himself. Monkish chroniclers have little good to say of Boleslav I—allegedly on account of that little affair at Stara Boleslav and of Boleslav's persistent paganism; actually, I imagine, on account of the anti-German attitude he adopted at the outset of his reign. Boleslav ruled with a firm hand; he subdued a number of Bohemian nobles who had allied themselves with the national enemy the German, before he resumed the conflict with Henry the Fowler which his mother had started. Henry, no doubt, was quite ready to quarrel, using the murder of his ally as a pretext, but he died before he had had time to settle down in the saddle, and left his son Otto to carry on. Now Otto, first German Emperor of that name, was a strong man, and is called Great on account of his success in reviving the Holy Roman Empire. Boleslav was a strong man too: Palacky, the famous Bohemian historian, describes him as "one of the most powerful monarchs that ever occupied the Bohemian throne." He succeeded in defending his country from the armies that Otto launched against it, and even the invasion of 950, led by the Emperor himself, brought no decisive victory for the Germans. Boleslav seems to have considered it futile to continue quarrelling with his western neighbour, especially as the usual trouble continued in the east, in which direction the Prince proposed to extend his dominions. By 955 we find Germans and Bohemians allied against the Magyars, who had acquired a habit of ravaging Western Europe once a year. They met their match on the Lechfeld, near Augsburg, and were utterly defeated in one of the most sanguinary and decisive battles fought during the Middle Ages. According to Count Lützow it appears that a Bohemian contingent of a thousand men formed part of the victorious army. Boleslav himself, with the greater part of his troops, remained to guard the frontiers of his country. The defeated Magyars suffered another defeat at the hands of Boleslav on their retreat through Bohemia, and their leader, Lehel, was taken prisoner. With peace and friendliness on his western front and his eastern enemy thoroughly beaten, Boleslav was in a position to carry out his ambitious plans. He freed Moravia from the Magyars and united it to Bohemia, and he is said to have conquered a considerable part of the country between the Carpathian Mountains and the Danube; probably Slovakia of to-day. By his conquests Boleslav became a near neighbour of Poland and managed to come to a good understanding with Duke Mieceslav I, ruler of that country, by giving that prince his daughter Dubravka in marriage, which would no doubt be considered a friendly act. Dubravka succeeded in converting her husband and his yet heathen people to Christianity. Mieceslav must have taken to it very strongly, for between them he and Dubravka produced a pious son and heir who was to become known as Boleslav the Brave.

Boleslav II of Bohemia, called "the Pious," enjoyed an even longer reign than his father did, from 967 to 999, which is one of those easy dates to remember. Monkish chroniclers seem to have ascribed a good deal of the work done by Boleslav I to his son, probably on account of the former's lack of piety in his early days and the latter's exuberance in that line. Certain it is that Boleslav II was ruler over larger dominions than had ever been held by any Prince or King of Bohemia. Besides Bohemia itself the power of Boleslav II extended over Moravia, present-day Slovakia, a great part of Silesia, including Breslau, districts of Poland nearly up to the town of Lemberg, with a frontier touching that of the Russian rulers of Kiev. The Bohemian nobles who had troubled his father were entirely suppressed by Boleslav II, who appointed burgraves called "zŭpans," over the various districts into which his territories were divided, and the central authority became absolute.

It is not certain whether Vyšehrad was still the actual seat of government or whether the Hradšany had taken its place. Certain it is that the Hradšany had grown in importance chiefly in the religious life of the nation. The foundations laid by St. Wenceslaus were extended. It appears that the Church of St. George on the Hradšany dates back to this early period; you can see its two rather stunted white steeples standing out over the complex of buildings near the eastern point of the Castle Hill before it dips down towards the Vltava. The earliest church on this point is attributed to Vratislav, uncle of St. Wenceslaus, but this sounds rather doubtful. Boleslav II, however, is known to have founded a convent here, probably the oldest in Bohemia, and he installed his sister Milada as first abbess. St. Ludmilla was also buried here, so the Hradšany was increasing in sanctity. Boleslav II is also responsible for providing Prague with her first bishop. We have seen that Henry the Fowler had incorporated Bohemia into the bishopric of Ratisbon; this was before that country could be considered as Christian, with right, as we have noticed the lapse after the demise of St. Wenceslaus. Boleslav II, however, was in a position to point to a much improved state of affairs, and so Otto I consented to the formation of a separate bishopric of Prague. The Pope consented likewise, under the express condition that the connection with the old Moravian archbishopric should be broken, and that the Latin liturgy only should be used. The German connection was further strengthened by placing Bohemia under the supremacy of the Archbishop of Maintz; Thietmar, a German, became the first Bishop of Prague. This worthy was succeeded after a few years by a native of Bohemia, Adalbert, who finally established Christianity in the country. He had a hard task, as many heathen customs, such as polygamy, were difficult to extirpate; there are even in this day very few churches dedicated to St. Anthony, a saint who does not seem to interest or convince the Bohemians. Adalbert carried his ideals farther afield, to the country of the heathen Prussians, who killed him for trespassing on ground dedicated to one of their deities. Adalbert became the third saint and martyr of Bohemian origin, and was adopted by the Poles as patron saint.

Though there are no buildings other than those on the Hradšany mentioned by the chroniclers, we may assume that a township was growing up by the river at the feet of the Castle Hill. We have the testimony of Ibrahim Ibn Jacub, who speaks of Prague as "a great commercial town of stone-built houses." Ibrahim's visit must have taken place in the reign of Boleslav II. I conclude that he was talking of a town on the left bank of the Vltava, because others of his race who came here in that Prince's day are said to have been allowed to found a school in the Mala Strana quarter. Some fifty years later yet more Jews came to Prague bringing presents for the ruler, Prince Vratislav, and Bishop Gebhard. They were allowed to build twelve little houses on the outskirts of the town, which would be somewhere about the Harrachove. These Jews promised to be of good behaviour and to pay double taxes, but in three months their numbers had increased to seven hundred, so half of them were ordered to go out over the river to where the old town now stands; another Jewish settlement was established there. The advent of these visitors is proof positive that Prague was becoming not only habitable but also a place of importance.

CHAPTER V

OLESLAV II had left dominions more extensive than any Slavonic State before or since could boast of; moreover, he left the name of Přemysl in high repute for piety and ability. Boleslav III, his son, undid all the good his predecessors had brought to their dominions and their reputation; in fact, within a few years of his accession he found himself stripped of all his belongings save Bohemia, and his hold on even that country was under dispute at times. It appears that Boleslav III was constitutionally unable to agree with anyone; contemporary chroniclers describe this Prince as cruel, avaricious and distrustful. The sons of Czech have always had a strong objection to paying for what they do not want, and that is what Boleslav was always expecting of them. He became so unpopular among his own people, who were called upon to finance him in his troubles with his brothers, that they invited their Duke's cousin, Prince Vladivoj, brother of Boleslav the Brave of Poland, to intervene. Vladivoj died young, so his brother took charge of all that had been the Bohemian realm, and incorporated it with his own; Boleslav of Poland, it is said, even contemplated making Prague the capital of his Empire. There is no trace of anything he did for the city, so we must assume that he did not carry out his intention: he was probably prevented by the inevitable friction with the Germans, who always found some excuse for putting down any attempt at founding a strong Slavonic Empire. In this instance King Henry II intervened on behalf of Boleslav III, who had stooped to becoming a vassal of the German King, with the title of Duke. After the usual fighting, Boleslav III was restored to his country for a short period in which he distinguished himself by wholesale assassination of his opponents. He eventually died in Poland as prisoner of Boleslav the Brave. Meanwhile, what with his cantankerous brothers, with Polish ambitions and German ill-will, Bohemia was having a sorry time.

In all this unseemly wrangling among the members of the Přemysl family I find only one bright spot of human interest, and that is the little affair of Ulrich and Božena. All three brothers, Boleslav III, Jaromir and Ulrich, the last surviving Přemysls, were childless, and, failing heirs, their inheritance would pass to Poland, to the children of Dubravka. A Přemysl successor was wanted; Ulrich and Božena provided one. It is undoubtedly true that Ulrich was already married when he encountered Božena, the beautiful village maiden, while she was washing the family linen at the village pump. It was a picturesque event, this meeting of the young prince and the village maiden, and has been satisfactorily illustrated by a patriotic Bohemian painter. You will find highly coloured reproductions of that artist's work in a shop window on the Narodni Třida, all illustrating events in the history of the Přemysl family, and when you see what Božena looked like you will not blame Ulrich. Anyway, Ulrich married Božena. How he managed this without causing complications is not our affair; the ancient chroniclers were satisfied; they insist on the legality of this union, and as we know them to have been very particular in such matters, it is not for us to discuss the point. You must also remember that Christianity was yet young among the Czechs and that they had been strongly addicted to the amiable habit of polygamy. You may also gather what was the attitude of Bohemian chroniclers from the remark which Dalimil, the contemporary of Ulrich, puts into the latter's mouth: "Rather would I entrust myself to a Bohemian peasant girl than that I should take a German queen for my wife. Every heart clings to its own nation; therefore would a German woman less favour my language. A German woman will have German servants; German will she teach my children." From this remark you will understand that the Bohemians thoroughly appreciated their neighbours.

Ulrich reverted to type, and once again the stout peasant stock of Czech came to the rescue of a fading dynasty; the son of Ulrich and Božena, Břetislav I, was destined to restore the house of Přemysl to a position more in keeping with its great traditions. Before succeeding his father, Břetislav was given an opportunity of proving what good stock he came from. Boleslav of Poland had died, his sons quarrelled over their heritage, and their dissensions gave the neighbours an excuse for interfering. One of these neighbours was King Stephen of Hungary, afterwards called "the Saint." He had only recently been converted from paganism, but he took part in this Polish dispute just as if he had been a ripe old Christian monarch of some standing. Stephen had the happy thought of taking Moravia for himself, no doubt in pious memory of his ancestor who first stole it. The same idea occurred to Ulrich of Bohemia, who sent young Břetislav into Moravia, where the latter defeated the Magyars rather badly; Moravia thereupon was added to Bohemia, whereas Slovakia remained with Hungary.

Břetislav failed to realize his ideal of forming a strong national Slavonic State, independent of German rule—he had too strong an Emperor against him, Henry III; but he certainly restored Bohemia and the Přemysl dynasty to a position of some importance in Europe. He was, however, unable to shake off the German grasp of his country; German armies had arrived before Prague and threatened that city with destruction, so Břetislav submitted to the inevitable, paid tribute to the Emperor and spent the last and peaceful years of his reign in restoring order and prosperity to his country. The city of Prague benefited by the bravery of Břetislav, for as a result of that Prince's successful campaign against the Poles the body of St. Adalbert, whom you have met before as Bishop of Prague, was captured by the Bohemians and restored to their capital. There was, I believe, some trouble about this operation of Břetislav. The ruler and people of Poland had appointed Adalbert as their patron saint; he had been killed in their country, had been buried there some time, and had even a cathedral to himself at Gnesen. The Pope launched a bull or two at Břetislav over this business. I do not know whether any of them took effect. The Bohemians were ordered to return Adalbert to the Poles, but I do not know that they did so, neither have I seen him lying about in Prague, probably because I have not looked for him. Adalbert is the patron saint of Emaus in Prague among many other churches in Bohemia, but no doubt he can find time to patronize Poland as well. Anyway, I do not anticipate any strained relations between the Republics of Czecho-Slovakia and Poland on this account; both countries are more interested in a yet older fossilized form of creation—coal to wit.

With the best will in the world it is difficult to rise to any enthusiasm over the majority of Bohemia's rulers in the eleventh and twelfth centuries. There seems to have been nothing of beauty or interest in individual Přemysls to break the monotony of endless quarrels between brother claimants to the throne and appeals of unsuccessful rivals to their German neighbour, whose decision would be entirely guided by the desire for a further weakening of Bohemia. Prague has little to show in the way of architectural interest dating from the eleventh and twelfth centuries, but what there is is good. I doubt whether any other city in Europe has much to show of that period of transition from Romanesque to Gothic: whatever there was has generally been pulled down or built over when the great flood of Gothic poured over Europe some century or so later. But if there is little to see in Prague which can be clearly traced to the two centuries under discussion, it is of interest in showing the expansion of the town since Libuša's prophecy concerning it. The Hradšany came in for some attention. Another church, dedicated to All Saints and built up very near the Basilica of St. George, dates back to the eleventh century. There are, or were till recently, distinct traces of work dating from that century to be found in the Karmelitska Ulice, that thoroughfare which leads from the Malo Stranské Náměsti towards Smichov. We have already noted that the Jews had settled in this part of Prague towards the end of the tenth century and that some of them had been ordered across the river to another settlement of their kind, so there must have been good steady business to be done in Prague. I have often wondered how and where people crossed the Vltava previous to 1167 when Judith, Queen of Vladislav II, built a bridge very near the site of the present Charles Bridge. Judith's bridge was eventually carried away by floods, but the Mala Strana bridgehead tower remains; you see it with its squat tower and broad chisel-shaped steeple, rising up beside the more graceful and ornate tower of the present bridge, which was new in the early years of the fourteenth century. The stout tower built by Judith is a very interesting study of architecture; it has had a long life of usefulness, having been used for many years as a lock-up for the froward youth of the neighbourhood, and it is still inhabited. This sturdy remnant of Judith's bridge, which you can see from my terrace, is the only trace I have found of means of communication between the two banks of the river. There must have been considerable traffic, as we know, for instance, how St. Wenceslaus was in the habit of going to and fro between Hradšany and Vyšehrad. The river was probably fordable in several places, but it is rather a treacherous stream with a swift current and an uncertain bottom; some Hungarian troops attempted to cross it by a ford on a certain memorable occasion, and were swept away to perdition. Yet even before Judith's time there must have been need of a bridge. The town and various settlements around it were growing up, as is proved by the number of churches which were considered necessary or appropriate. The Hradšany was very well off in that respect. Then there was the Church of St. Cosmas and Damian, where you now see the towers of Emaus, and in the twelfth century, if not at the end of the eleventh, the foundations of the Tyn Church were laid. This period also has left three quaint little Romanesque chapels in various parts of Prague. They are very well preserved, these little round chapels, and the fact that they are pretty far apart suggests the extent to which Prague had expanded by the end of the twelfth century. There is one of these chapels dedicated to St. Martin, on Vyšehrad, another to St. Longinus, rather difficult to find, some half-mile north-east of Emaus; and a third, the oldest of all, the Chapel of the Holy Cross, stands near the old Town Tower of the Charles Bridge. There is also a seventeenth-century baroque imitation of these Romanesque chapels under the riverside slope of the Letna Hill, which is not worth troubling about.

While Christianity was striking its roots yet deeper into the soil of Bohemia, the rulers of that country were being drawn into the quarrel between the spiritual and the would-be temporal head of the Church; the "Investiture Strife" gave Vratislav, son of Břetislav I, an opportunity of strengthening his independence and increasing the importance of his country. He took sides with Emperor Henry IV against one of the strongest of the Popes, Gregory VII. The Emperor's Bohemian allies took part in many of that monarch's battles, chiefly against the Saxons, who appear to have been hereditary enemies of the sons of Czech, and the victory at Hohenburg on the Unstrutt in 1075 is attributed to the bravery of the Bohemian troops. Six years later Bohemian troops helped Henry IV in his attack on Rome, and their leader, Wiprecht of Groitch, was one of the first to scale the walls of the Eternal City. The Czechs have always been good hearty fighters, and of the three hundred who set out to help the Emperor against Rome only nine returned home to Bohemia. The Germans, even in those early days, were thorough utilitarians.

As reward for his many and great services Henry IV promoted Vratislav to the rank of King. It appears to have been, as it were, brevet-rank only; it was not hereditary. Nevertheless it was a great day for Prague when the ruler of Bohemia was crowned with the golden diadem, presented by the Emperor himself. There was no doubt that King Vratislav had earned the distinction—he had done well by himself, by his country and by his ally the Emperor—so no doubt the Basilica Church of St. George on the Hradšany and its congregation did all honour to the crowning of Bohemia's first King. It is also interesting to note that Vratislav had "contributed to the party funds"; he had lent money to the Emperor. This should strike a homely, familiar note among us.

The frescoes in St. George's Church probably date from the time of King Vratislav; there was a distinct revival of love for things beautiful in those days when the peoples were beginning to see the light that was rising, gently but persistently, over the subsiding chaos that had claimed Europe for the past three centuries and more. True, the world was still a confused and worrying sort of place to live in; apart from the soul-sickening public quarrels between Rome and the Empire, there was a good deal of private enterprise in that line between all manner of petty potentates. Nevertheless there was some improvement to be noted, first in the tendency of fostering national feeling in place of a confused cosmopolitanism, secondly by the effects of the Cluny movement in its endeavour to reform the Church. The tendency of the time expressed itself in beautiful illuminated manuscripts, and Prague is lucky in the possession of many such. It is probable that Duke Břetislav II, grandson of the first prince of that name, encouraged the expression of his people's religious and national sentiments, in those illuminated manuscripts of the Bible, of Missals, and the "Cantionales," those works so beautiful in design, so loyal and sincere of execution, their colours as fresh as when the artist's hand withdrew reluctantly from the finishing touch.

Břetislav II had had a misfortune in his youth; he had caused a courtier of the name of Zderad to be murdered. Zderad had insulted the young Prince; what with that and the courtier's unpronounceable name it is no wonder that Břetislav was roused to act indiscreetly. He found it advisable to spend some years abroad after this little affair, and only returned home when his father's neck was broken out hunting. Břetislav took up the anti-pagan line very strongly. It seems strange, but there was still a certain amount of paganism lurking in secret places in Bohemia. It was not safe to indulge in heathen rites at home, but there were places abroad where it was still possible. One of these places is still a fashionable holiday resort, the Island of Rügen in the Baltic Sea. Here there was a temple at Arkona, to Svantovit, the god of air and light, besides a local and household deity president over all Rügen, called Rugevit. I can quite imagine a couple of Czech householders, law-abiding and good church-goers, conspiring to get away from the family for a bit and take a trip to Rügen, just for a flutter with the old gods. What with the secrecy required, as both Ruler and Church forbade the practice of worshipping Slavonic deities, the practice must have been quite as exciting as petits chevaux.

Whether it was this interference with the Rügen pilgrims or his action in stamping out the custom of holding religious services in the language of the country, Břetislav II was not popular; he was eventually murdered by some of his nobles. The successors of Břetislav seem to have been cantankerous and inefficient; it is wearisome to read of those hopeless people throwing away the fruits of good work done by such stout fellows as Břetislav I or even the hearty heathen Boleslav. In all this distressing muddle of brothers, cousins, etc., fighting, getting beaten and running off to the German Emperor to howl to him about it, there are occasional bright spots. So for instance, one Soběslav, who came to the throne in 1125, and found things in the usual mess, with half the country against him; nevertheless he managed to beat Emperor Lothair most heartily. Lothair had crossed the Giant Mountains in order to support the claims of some other Přemysl, had met Soběslav's hastily gathered army at Kulm, near Teplitz, and had been handsomely beaten. Not only that, but Lothair and the remnants of his army were surrounded, and it was up to the Bohemian Prince to impose terms this time. Soběslav was thus able to improve the status of Bohemia considerably, and he added to his country's dignity by receiving the high office of hereditary cup-bearer of the Empire, from Conrad III, Lothair's successor. Cupbearer in perpetuam to an Empire sounds very important and suggests great possibilities of influencing people. As a matter of fact the office gave Bohemia certain rights within the Empire which went some way to balance the obligations; nevertheless German ties were fastened yet more securely on the sons of Czech.

Soběslav was succeeded by his nephew Vladislav, another Přemysl to rise to royal rank. This Prince passed through the usual troubles before securing the throne to himself, and was perforce driven to invoke the German Emperor Conrad in order to establish his sovereign rights over the whole of Bohemia and Moravia. The reign of Vladislav I (as King) is relieved by a certain picturesqueness, by a touch of romance, from the usual sordid course of events in the life of the Přemysl dynasty with its rivalries, treachery, conspiracies and other social amenities of the time. There is even something picturesque in the fact that the Pope had felt obliged to send Cardinal Guido with a special mission to establish order among the Bohemian clergy. These amiable gentlemen would persist in entering the bonds of matrimony; if Bohemian ladies were as attractive then as they are to-day, I feel the sincerest sympathy with those gallant priests. It is easy to imagine what trouble arose when Cardinal Guido insisted that all married priests should either separate from their wives or renounce their dignities, and there were some clerics of the highest rank, among them a couple of deans, who were called upon to this act of renunciation. The immediate result of the Pope's interference was that the Bohemians chased his legate from Prague to Eger, where the latter succumbed to his injuries. This was certainly a picturesque incident, but it was not appreciated by the Papacy, which was hotly in favour of Cluniac principles. There were other picturesque events pending which forced a compromise even on Rome; the second crusade, much encouraged by Cluny, was in course of preparation, and as all Christian countries of Europe were expected to take part, the time was not propitious for bringing pressure to bear on Bohemia's ruler. He had not arrived at royal dignity when the Guido episode took place; it was within the first year of his reign. The royal crown was bestowed on Vladislav a few years later by another romantic personage, Frederick Barbarossa, in consideration of Bohemian assistance against the Emperor's enemies in Northern Italy. Vladislav marched an army of ten thousand men from Bohemia, took part in the siege of Milan, and himself killed Dacio, one of the leaders of the Milanese.

I doubt whether Vladislav is entitled to an effigy with feet crossed, as his part in the second crusade was not remarkable. He took his troops to Asia, left them there under the charge of King Louis VII of France, and returned to his own country via Constantinople, where he indulged in a little intriguing with the Greek Emperor Emanuel. This seems to have given the flamboyant Greeks the impression that Bohemia's King had become a vassal of their Emperor; they were disillusioned some years later when Vladislav assisted Stephen III on to the throne of Hungary against the Emperor Emanuel's choice.

It is all very fine and thrilling to read about picturesque princes, romantic rulers, and we shall hear of several in the history of Prague, but they are not necessarily an asset to a country that wishes to develop in peace and consolidate within its own boundaries. It is difficult to see what good Vladislav did by his trip to Asia with the crusaders; he left his troops in charge of a foreigner and created a distinctly wrong impression on another people while on his way home. Again, he was romantically brave in Italy at the head of a Bohemian army which was much in excess of the numbers required of him by his agreement with Barbarossa. Of this large army very few returned to their native country. There is, however, one deed by which Vladislav becomes entitled to undying merit: he founded the Monastery of Strahov.

Where the strip of land which connects the Hradšany Hill with that of Petřin, mentioned in Libuša's forecast, dips a bit before rising again, there Vladislav laid the foundations of Strahov. This happened in 1140, what time Vladislav was beset by enemies of his own house, who disputed his right to the throne; he was even assailed in his capital, Prague, by another Přemysl, Conrad of Znoymo. Nevertheless the walls of Strahov Monastery rose over the terraced valley that dips down into Prague between Petřin and Castle Hill. The good monks of Strahov, illumined by the light that spread from Cluny, soon made of their house a home of learning and piety, a haunt of peace where weary souls found rest from strife and turmoil; Mount Zion, the people called this sacred spot, and the name still clings to it despite the many vicissitudes through which it has passed. It must have been a-building when the enemies of Vladislav attacked the city, it was destroyed when the Hussite wars broke out over Bohemia, and it suffered at the hands of the Swedes during the War of Thirty Years. But the good work that Vladislav the King had started on Mount Zion of Strahov was not allowed to perish; the monastery re-arose from its ashes after each visitation, with renewed strength, arose to look out over Prague from its terraced height. While looking out over the city with the eye of a friend full of loving understanding, the congregation on Mount Zion pursued the even tenor of its way, collecting treasures for the benefit of future generations. The library, a wonderful sight and soothing after the turmoil in the streets of Prague, contains many of those collected treasures, instruments used by the astronomer Tycho de Brahe, the works of Racusani the philosopher, a gift of Sir Thomas Saville to Hajek the sixteenth-century biologist, astronomer, professor of Prague University, who had studied in Milan and Bologna and had visited England in 1589. Then there are the poetical works of Elizabeth Weston of a noble English family, who had made her home in Prague and died here in 1612. A very learned lady this, but, it would seem, unhappy. You may see her tomb in St. Thomas's Church in Mala Strana, just beyond that imposing Jesuit Church of St. Nicholas, on it the following inscription:—

D. O. M. S. B. M.

Elisabethae Joannae Westonae

Nobilitate patriae Britanniae,
Seculi nostri Sulpitiae,
Cui nomen dant litterae illibati

Minervae floris
Suadae decoris
Musarum delicii
Foeminarum exempli.

Strahov Monastery has, I hope, passed through its vicissitudes and has entered at last into an existence of undisturbed usefulness. Of its earliest appearance there are neither record nor any traces left; the storms that passed over Bohemia have obliterated any outward sign of the Mount Zion which Vladislav founded and whither generations of the pious sons of Czech went up to find peace. One of the first of these was Vladislav himself; weary of war and worn out by internal dissensions, he abdicated and retired to Strahov to end his days.

Strahov was entirely rebuilt in the seventeenth century, and has withstood the enemies of Bohemia from without and within, taking no irreparable harm from the open attack of Frederick of Prussia in the eighteenth century or the covert attack of those hostile to the faith it has stood for down the ages. The quaintly shaped spires of St. Mary's Church with its three aisles, its glorious organ the largest in all Bohemia, stand out in bold relief amidst the terraced garden and orchards tended with fond care. The belfry is silent, its bells were sacrificed to the cause of the Habsburgs in the Great War; you may see plaster casts of them in the library. Here you may feast your eye on gloriously illuminated manuscripts and wonder at the ingenious inventions of one or other good brother who sojourned here a while on his way to the "Abiding City." There is, for instance, a model of the first lightning-conductor. Country folk, when they first saw it, crossed themselves, thinking this the work of the devil. The visitors' book in the library shows signatures of men famous in history, among them our Nelson, who, in company of Sir William and Lady Hamilton, visited Strahov on September 29, 1800. The strict rules of the congregation of Premonstratensians allow ladies to visit only the library, which is approached from the outer courtyard; the picture gallery is unfortunately closed to them, a small collection but of value, its gem is Dürer's "Rosary Feast."

So stands Strahov, Mount Zion, between the Castle Hill and Petřin looking out over Prague from its terraced gardens and its bower of fruit-trees. It is always beautiful, this haunt of old-world peace, whether the garden and the orchard be all a mass of blossom creamy white in the sunshine, pale purples in the shadows, in the shade of midsummer foliage when Golden Prague below glitters in the midday heat, or in autumn when the valley is all a blaze of gold and russet, and the distant hills stand out in strong blue masses. Winter also brings fascination. Strahov, its many windows severely closed and reflecting a sullen sky, seems to stand out more austerely from among the gaunt tree-trunks, their grey and sombre outlines broken by a fantasia of gnarled and twisted branches glittering under snow. But within those walls, in the high altar's mysterious depth, in the long bare corridors and tiny cells where useful work continues as it has done for centuries, there is the "peace that passeth understanding."

CHAPTER VI

N the death of Vladislav II, in fact on his retirement to the cloistered peace of Strahov, it became evident that there were too many Přemysls about in Bohemia to make for that country's peace and contentment. These worthies were constantly falling over each other in the scramble for the throne, and their disunited efforts resulted in ten changes in the person of the sovereign over a period of twenty-four years. This filled Bohemia's German neighbours with unholy joy and brought the distracted country more and more under Teuton domination, so much so that Frederick Barbarossa thought fit to summon one or other pretender and a bunch of obstreperous Bohemian nobles to appear before him at the Imperial Court at Ratisbon, in order that he might exercise the right he had assumed of settling the affairs of the Přemysl dynasty. By way of a picturesque touch to the proceedings, Barbarossa is said to have arranged for a suitable display of executioners' axes at the meeting. Nevertheless this pretty imperial conceit settled no affairs one way or another, and it was not until Přemysl Ottokar became undisputed ruler of Bohemia, and eventually of Moravia as well, that order of a sort was restored. Death had also been busy among members of the Přemysl family and had brought considerable relief to the distracted country.

By the time Ottokar I had settled himself firmly on the throne he found that the confused, almost anarchic, state which Germany had drifted into could mean many advantages to Bohemia, if the situation were properly handled. The House of Hohenstaufen began to go downhill after the death of Henry VI, and we find a lusty Welf, Otto, clamouring for the imperial diadem, assisted by a number of German Electors. This gave the ruler of Bohemia his opportunity, and Ottokar took it. His son Wenceslaus I and grandson Ottokar II followed the same line of policy, a purely dynastic one. They took sides with one or other of the rivals for the crown of the Holy Roman Empire, changing as considerations of domestic interests required, and making skilful use of the perennial quarrel between Empire and Papacy over the Investitures. While the Hohenstaufens were trickling out until the luckless Conradin lost his head at Naples, while fierce Welfs like Otto of Brunswick wrecked themselves on the rock of papal insistence, Bohemia's rulers were profiting. Ottokar I seems to have been particularly astute in this line of business. He supported two rival Emperors in turn and got something useful out of both, he upheld the cause of Pope Innocent III against one or other imperial rival and induced that pontiff to recognize the Přemysl's title to royalty. Ottokar even found himself sufficiently strong to try a throw with the Pope himself on the vexed subject of Investiture, simply by way of a little private sport on his own account and not as part of the general European brawl. It happened that Andrew, Bishop of Prague, was one of those didactic prelates who insisted on all the little things the Papacy was out for—immunity for his clerics from the temporal law-courts, from taxes, and so on. Above all, Andrew was strong on the right of conferring ecclesiatical office, albeit he had himself accepted investiture at the hands of Ottokar. This led to quite a hearty quarrel in which Andrew got the worst of it; he had to seek refuge in Rome, whence he let off all the customary fulminations, declaring Bohemia to be under interdict and so on. Nobody in Bohemia took the least notice of Andrew's little efforts; Church and people went solidly with their King on this occasion, and carried on their devotional exercises as before.

We have to thank Ottokar for several picturesque flashes which brighten up the gloomy picture of this period. So for instance, he took a trip to Maintz, where he was solemnly crowned as King. No doubt Prague would have been a more suitable setting for this function, but Ottokar had so timed his arrangements as to come in for a double event, for Philip of Suabia with assistance from Bohemia's ruler, secured the German crown at the same time. Then again this thoughtful Přemysl Ottokar provided Bohemia with yet another patron saint of the blood royal, and not by the old-fashioned family method of killing a relative. Ottokar had married Constance of Hungary, and it was their daughter Agnes who next joined the distinguished and hallowed company of Ludmilla and Wenceslaus. Agnes, educated by St. Hedwig, early distinguished herself by refusing to marry Emperor Frederick II. She decided to become a bride of heaven instead, founded the Order of Clarissa, entered it herself and eventually died as abbess in the odour of sanctity. Frederick consoled himself with one wife after another (a wife seems to have lasted no time in those days), his third and last being Isabella, daughter of King John of England, whose son, Richard of Cornwall, also comes into the story a little farther on in this chapter. St. Agnes was held in great reverence by the citizens of Brüx, is still so held, I hope, for she did them a good turn in 1424. The Pragers had been indulging in a feud with the Brüxers, and had taken a bad beating on one occasion. The former prepared a surprise attack and marched on Brüx hoping to take it by a midnight assault. St. Agnes happened to be watching while the fat burghers slept; she roused them from slumber, drove them to the walls and aided them in beating off the attacking Pragers, Then the Brüxers went to sleep again. It is also pleasant to reflect that Agnes's refusal to marry Frederick did not mar the excellent relations that sprang up between that monarch and Ottokar whenever the latter happened to want something out of the former. It is true that Ottokar had changed about a good deal between one rival emperor and another, but he remained loyal to Frederick in the end, and the latter outlived him by some thirty years. The relations between the two must have been quite pleasant and comfortable, as you may judge from the concessions made by the Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire to Bohemia's King. A pretty and tactful compliment it was on the part of Frederick to allow Ottokar's heralds, when preceding their royal master to the Imperial Diet, to carry lighted torches on poles before him, and this to signify that the Bohemian excursionists were at liberty to burn down anything they had a mind to. It is these little considerations that have ever played such an important though unrecognized part in the diplomatic relations between nations. The Bohemians are still quite nice about accepting little acts of kindness and consideration from anybody.

Přemysl Ottokar I had reigned for twenty-eight years when his son Wenceslaus, first King of that name, succeeded him, and, strange to say, practically without opposition. By this time Bohemia had risen to a position of importance in the councils of Europe not only by the skilful, not to say artful, policy of its rulers, but also owing to the growing prosperity of the country which was reflected in the life of Prague its capital.

Prague consisted of three distinct settlements each apparently under separate administration. There was the old original settlement on Vyšehrad which seems to have been under the sway of the abbot presiding over the monastic institutions on that hill. Then there was Libuša's foundation on the Hradšany and extending down to the river, probably under the rule of the King's lieutenant or burgrave, and finally the Old Town on the right bank with its own municipal institutions. These three parts of Prague were separately walled in, but little remains of any architectural work earlier in date than the Kings of Bohemia of whom this Wenceslaus is generally counted as the first though his father's royal rank had been recognized by the Pope and at least two emperors.

By the time Wenceslaus I came to the throne, the changes were in full swing which were to lead up to the golden age of Prague a century or so later. We have already noticed a tendency of German immigrants towards Prague and other cities of Bohemia. The Germans, mostly tradesmen and artisans, came with the civic instinct well developed, whereas the sons of Czech were, and still are, more of the fields and forests and the free life without walls. The Germans, bringing with them the appreciation of walled security, were responsible in great measure for the fortified cities of Bohemia and Moravia. It cannot be said of the later Přemysl rulers preceding the Kings of Bohemia that they were inspired by the founder's ardour. Then again the Bohemian nobility had risen to a strong sense of its own importance encouraged by the lamentable dissensions in the reigning house, and not uninfluenced by an infusion of German blood; they also had taken to walling themselves in on convenient hill-tops. As these nobles were become increasingly troublesome, it is not surprising that Přemysl rulers induced more and more Germans to settle in the cities of Bohemia and Moravia, thus starting a steady-going middle class which might be expected to pay for peace and protection and which when walled in was conveniently in hand for the tax-collector's operations. That this scheme was beginning to succeed even in the early days of the twelfth century is proved by the fact that Jews were flocking to Prague in ever increasing numbers, so there must have been business doing in the capital and other cities of the land, under conditions of reasonable security. It may be taken for granted that improvements and additions to the defences of Prague, the decoration of the town by stately churches and other monuments, however much directed by the sovereign, were paid for by the burghers.

The story of the Jews in Prague makes very interesting reading; it is, however, beyond the scope of this work to give more than an indication of the part that the Children of Israel took in the development of the city. You will remember that a travelling commercial gentleman of Semitic origin, one Ibrahim Ibn Jacub, had visited Prague in the tenth century and had noted the place with approval. As far as I can make out he makes no reference to a colony of his co-religionists already in existence here, so the story that Jews settled here before the destruction of Jerusalem seems little likely. It was, indeed, averred by the Jews of Prague that they had their settlement here long before Libuša launched her prophecies, before the birth of Christ in fact, so that they at least might be considered guiltless of the Divine Tragedy on Golgotha. Their legend calls the place Buiarnum, which suggests some acquaintance with the Celtic tribe that rested for a while in Bohemia, gave its name to the country and then wandered to Bavaria, where it repeated the performance. I find this legend of the Jews difficult to believe despite my earnest endeavour to find something of truth in Saga's ebullitions. How, for instance, is it possible that the gifted lady Libuša did not discover the advantages of a Jewish colony and that she omitted to prophesy a contribution out of the sons of Israel towards her new foundation? No, if there had been any Jews within signing distance of this city when it arose, Praha would have started with a mortgage on her, and the entertainment tax would probably be double what it is this day.

You may take it as a general principle that every country has the Jews it deserves. If you oppress them, trample them in the mud as was customary in pre-war Russia, they will turn and rend you when their turn comes round; this is happening in Russia at present. If you despoil a Jew by violence, he will do the same to you by guile, and you may or may not be left with your full complement of cuticle. If you treat the Jew as one entitled to equal rights with equal responsibilities, you will find him an excellent citizen.

As elsewhere in the Europe of the Middle Ages, the Children of Israel in Prague were confined to certain quarters of the town. We have heard how a number of them were ordered to leave the Hradsšany side of the river and settle in the Old Town. The quarter allotted to the Jews was in that part of the Old Town known as Josefov, and the Old Ghetto stood approximately in that complex of narrow streets between the river at the Rudolfinum Bridge and the broad thoroughfare Mikulašska Třida. I could point out the place from my terrace if I were minded to give its locality away and to depart from my principle of making every man choose his own point of view.

The life of the Ghetto centred round the old Jewish Town Hall, with its quaint, indeed rather unsightly, tower on which is a clock that you are expected to treat as one of the sights of the place. On the face of this clock the numbers are marked by Hebrew letters and the hands of this clock move from right to left. The fact that the Jews had a Town Hall to themselves in ancient Prague is significant; it stood for the semi-autonomous constitution of the Jewish community which was subject to the sovereign as a corporate body with its own municipal institutions and responsibilities. This peculiar segregation of the Jewish community as an imperium in imperio, apart in matters of local administration as in matters of religion, from their fellow-citizens, must have done a great deal towards forming the character of its members, and the result has been of advantage to the city of Prague in times of stress.

Close by the Jewish Town Hall stands another yet more ancient landmark of cultural history, the "Staronová Škola", or Old New School. Close by the side of that broad thoroughfare the Mikulasška Třida, with the electric trams clanging along it, stands this strange temple. Dr. Jeřabek, in his excellent booklet on Beautiful Old Prague likens this ancient building to a gigantic hand of Aaron held up in blessing over the Ghetto; I think you will agree with me that this is a very happy simile. Built in the severe style of transition from Romanesque to Gothic, of massive stone walls heavily buttressed, with steep red-tiled sloping roof, blackened with age and the grime of the walled-in Ghetto, this temple served not only as a place of worship for the sons of Israel, but also as a casket for the remains of a yet older one said to date back to the sixth century and probably the oldest temple on the Continent of Europe. The present fane itself is of venerable age and aspect; its building fell into the reign of King Wenceslaus I and Ottokar II, and took ten years, from 1250 to 1260. Men only are allowed to worship in the inner temple, dingy and dark; whatever light penetrates through the narrow windows calls forth reluctant glints from the many brass candelabra, work of long centuries ago. Women may look on from an outer court through glazed openings that look like gun-embrasures.

The Jews required strong defences in the dark days of the Middle Ages; their Ghetto was shut off from the rest of the city by heavy iron gates, but even these proved of no avail when once the mob got loose and undertook a raid. On several occasions organized massacres took toll of the "Children of the Ghetto," who on other occasions were banished, bag and baggage, from Prague and driven out into the country. Though now and again they suffered intolerably, yet were they on the whole better treated than in many other parts of Europe, were allowed to develop along their own lines, and produced many men of mark and learning, and women of distinction, among the latter one who was raised to the nobility by a Habsburg Emperor and King of Bohemia, Bas-Schevi called "of Treunberg." Among the prominent men whose light shone out beyond the Ghetto of Prague, I may mention the poet-Rabbi Abigdor Caro, the bibliophile Rabbi Oppenheim whose library is now in Oxford, then the chronicler and mathematician David Gans, a friend of Keppler and Tycho de Brahe, and Solomon de Medigo de Candia the pupil of Galileo Galilei.